Please Don't Leave Me
by Vio the Great
Summary: Denmark and Norway have the first fight of their official relationship, and Denmark has a plan to win his lover back: shower him with gifts! Denmark x Norway, Oneshot


_I'm back from hiatus~_

_This is the story I wrote for the Hetalia Sunshine Fanworks Exchange, so I was given the plot and had to write this and stuff. Apparently it turned out really well, even though I've never written for this couple before, so... Enjoy! _

**Please Don't Leave Me**

"-And if all you're going to do is flirt with women, I don't even see the point of dating you!"

Denmark stared after Norway in shock as the blond's face reddened to an even deeper shade of crimson, burning with rage. He had never seen him like this, yelling this loudly… Before even a syllable of denial could escape his mouth, Norway's hand was on the door.

"Screw you, bastard!" he snapped, slapping away the hand Denmark had stretched out toward him and slamming the door. By the time the Dane had returned from his bout of complete shock, he had vanished deep into the black of the night. Denmark stared at the darkness where his usually cold and quiet boyfriend had just been, one hand clutching his drink, the other tight on the doorknob, as he vaguely wondered how he was going to fix _this_ one.

* * *

And that was how the first fight of their 'official' relationship went. Denmark has gone over the incident in his head more than twenty times in the past day, and he still had so many questions. Why had Norway over-reacted so much? All it had been was some drink-buying and letting the alcohol talk for him. And the fight…

They had fought so many times before, argued and yelled, charged at each other with polished, deadly weapons. It hadn't mattered then. Back then, it had all been different. The physical wounds caused by Norway's army had never hurt as much as this heartache, the silent longing for his northern lover to return. Every time he replayed the scene in his head, saw Norway, curse at him and slam the door, sharp, salty tears pricked at his eyes. Damn, he missed him…

Denmark paced back and forth across his foyer a few times, lost in thought. Outside, the people of his country rushed around, doing the things they always did, oblivious of their very country's heartache. Finally, after several minutes of concentration, an idea appeared like a glowing lightbulb in his mind, brightening the very room. A smirk began to play across the Dane's face.

Yes, that was definitely the way to win back Norge's heart…

* * *

Good riddance.

Those were the two words that ultimately ran through Norway's mind every time a breath of wind that resembled Denmark's pompous laugh blew by, or the floorboards creaked across the house when there was no one there, and he had to remind himself that the taller blond was gone, nowhere to be seen, that he had stalked out of the bar in a fit of rage just a few days prior.

Good riddance. That annoying idiot that was forever fawning over him, whom he'd only agreed to go out with to shut him up, who he had DEFINITELY not fallen for, the guy he couldn't care less about… He was gone. Good riddance.

In the end, he couldn't help but wonder if Denmark could actually SURVIVE on his own, the idiot that he was.

…It wasn't as though he cared, though. No, not at all.

A sudden loud rap on the door made the nation's head snap up. What the hell-

"Package delivery for Mr…. Er… Norge… From… Name unlisted. Damn, this thing is big! I'll, uh, just leave it by the door, then. H-have a nice day, Mr. Norge, if you're in there…" There was a loud thump, and the delivery man's footsteps faded down the driveway.

Once Norway heard the delivery truck drive away, he stood up silently and turned to the door, staring it down for a moment before pushing it open a crack and peering out.

Seeing nothing, he gave another push on the door, but only managed a few inches: something was in the way, which he assumed to be the package. Cautious, the nation stepped lightly outside, only to promptly jump back against the door, shocked by the box before him.

Several feet tall and wide, the enormous box sat completely still before him, but Norway could see Denmark's smirk written all over it. He muttered a low "Idiot…", and wasted no time on shoving the offending object out of his doorway and into the front yard. This was just ridiculous… Oddly enough, the cardboard was a bit hot. Sensing danger, Norway stepped back, and not a moment too soon.

The package exploded, quite literally. Hundreds of fireworks whizzed loudly into the late afternoon summer sky, expanding with loud bangs into flowery shapes far above the house. Norway stared wordlessly as rainbow sparks rained gently down on him, swirling gently in the wind. All around him, more fireworks were shooting up, into various shapes and colors, coloring the sunset more brightly than ever. As he stared up, the tiniest of smiles crossed the Nordic's face.

Denmark was such an idiot…

* * *

He was a genius. An absolute genius. Denmark smirked to himself and took another swig of alcohol. That was quite the feat he had pulled off, and something only someone as awesome as him could have managed. And thanks to his genius, Norway was probably on his way over right now, to sob loudly about how sorry he was for yelling, that he would never leave again, that they were destined to be together… And he would throw himself into Denmark's arms, and they would live happily ever after.

Until then, though, the tall blond nation went back to vigorously cleaning his battle axe and downing the drink. Once the light shimmered brightly off the metal again, Denmark swung it around a few times (breaking a few empty bottles in the process) before leaning the large weapon back against the wall.

Wondering aloud if Norway had arrived yet, he headed for the door, confidence lacing his every step. "Hey, Norge! I know you're out there! I know you're so-" He stopped midsentence, having opened the door to see no one there, and a small package of licorice on the ground.

Denmark stared at the little bag for a long moment before grinning and picking it up. "Hahaha! Norge! You're so sweet!" After ripping open the package and biting a piece off one, he laughed cheerfully again. "You really do care, I knew it!" Closing the door, he decided that if Norway wasn't going to show up on his door step and beg for forgiveness yet, he wasn't going to give up…

Oh no, he had an excellent idea.

* * *

Norway woke up the next morning still in a slight panic. That had been a close call the day before; he had just barely managed to escape Denmark's notice. Lucky for him, the idiotic nation was extremely noisy…

As he stepped out the door to go shopping for a few simple items, he found another large box on his doorstep. This one had a note on it, reading, '_To my beloved Norge, from Danmark. P.S. The licorice was delicious; you're so cute when you're acting like you don't care! I'm so happy._'

Norway sighed. He had hoped that giving a gift in return would end this, but apparently his southern neighbor didn't understand that you weren't supposed to give a thank-you gift for a thank-you gift. In the end, he dragged the box into the house, hoping it wasn't something explosive again.

It wasn't. Instead, at least a hundred bottles of liquor of varying types sat before him. That was Denmark, all right. A crazy, annoying, stubborn drinker.

…Just what did that idiot expect him to do with all these drinks? While all the Nordics enjoyed alcohol, Denmark being the heaviest consumer, this was insane. Well, it would be a waste to leave them, so… Norway selected a bottle and examined it. The highest quality, of course. If nothing else, the Dane had a good eye for this… Shrugging, Norway took a drink and wondered what the thank you for a thank you for a thank you gift should be.

* * *

Well, this was unusual.

Denmark had been expecting another package of licorice or something of the sort, but a rather large box was brought to him by the postal service a day later. There was no note, of course, the only thing written on it being his address in tiny, neat lettering. He immediately dragged it inside and ripped it open.

Whatever he expected, it certainly wasn't another, smaller box. But sure enough, a bland, brown, lidded cube sat inside the cardboard container. He grinned. Of course. Norge had obviously given him a smaller gift, which was inside this box! He pulled the lid off, and found… Another box, this one containing yet another box, followed by another, and another, and another… Each cube smaller than the previous one.

Denmark laughed to himself as he finally reached the smallest box. If there was nothing in it, at least it had been quite entertaining… Still expecting something, he opened the container.

He wasn't disappointed. A folded up slip of paper was tucked inside, bent into a perfect square. He quickly opened it, met with a poem written in the same miniscule, perfect writing as the address.

'_Roses are red, violets are blue,_

_Sugar is sweet, and so are… Nevermind._

_But the roses have wilted, the violets are dead,_

_The sugar bowl's empty, and so is your head. But, we already knew that.'_

Denmark yelled happily. "Norge! I love you!"

* * *

When no gifts came for a few days, Norway assumed it was over.

The truth was, Denmark was just having a bit of trouble getting the next peace offering, and it appeared just when the shorter nation was beginning to attempt to readjust to normal life.

_'Norge, that last gift was beautiful!_

_Since you gave me a large gift, I'll give you a small one. You'd better use it! –Danmark'_

Attached to the note was a plane ticket to some distant island. Norway tore off the slip of paper with the other nation's ridiculously sloppy handwriting on it and started to aim for the wastebasket, but stopped at the last second and shoved the object into his pocket. Staring at the ticket, which paid for a one-way trip to Seychelles, he searched for the date and time. It was the following morning, at nine. He slapped it onto the table and walked away.

It was a waste not to use it. Denmark was an idiot, but he was probably planning something. But a break from work…

In the end, Norway found himself, against his better judgment, packing his bags and leaving for the airport the next morning.

* * *

The plane was relatively empty when the quiet Nordic nation boarded. Norway took his seat in first class, just as the ticket had arranged. As more passengers arrived and there was no sign of Denmark, he tried to be relieved, but found it difficult to ignore the ever so faint sinking feeling in his chest. He clutched the paper in his hand tighter and turned to stare out the window.

Just as his thoughts were escaping reality, someone loud and obnoxious sat down next to him. Someone loud, obnoxious, and extremely familiar. Norway didn't turn his head, choosing instead to completely ignore Denmark as if there were still no one there.

"Aw, Norge, look at me! Come on…"

As the taller nation grinned broadly and started to reach for him, the plane started moving, the sound of the engines drowning out any further attempts at speaking.

For the rest of the flight, the two Nordics sat in silence, Denmark occasionally humming loudly and rocking in his seat, then suddenly laughing loudly and wrapping an arm around Norway's neck and dragging him closer. The shorter nation didn't struggle; he merely played 'dead' in a sense, until he was released.

Several painfully long hours later, the plane pulled into the Seychelles airport. As soon as the doors opened to leave, Norway stood up, shoved a paper into Denmark's hands, and rushed off the plane and into the foreign airport.

Denmark blinked and unfolded and smoothed out the crumpled sheet, where he found the printed out lyrics to 'Please Don't Leave Me' typed across it. A huge grin burst across his face, growing larger when he read the whole page. "Norge…"

He stood up and headed for the exit, on his way to look for his beloved Norge.

* * *

"So, Norge, I take it this means you want me back?"

Norway yanked his luggage off the belt, not answering. Turning away, he started to look for the exit, but a large hand caught his shoulder.

"…"

Denmark laughed at silent, uncaring expression on his friend's face. "Norge, you know you-"

"Shut up, idiot." Norway twisted around. "Stop acting like it's my fault. YOU'RE THE reason I yelled and left. I don't have to apologize."

The taller blond was stunned silent. It took a while for this to process, but when it did, he understood.

"…Oh… Ah. Norge…" He sucked up his pride. "I'm… Sorry. But in my defense, you should be used to it! It's _me_, after all!" The confident grin was back.

After a second long pause, Norway sighed. "…Fine. I… shouldn't have yelled…" A slightly annoyed tone laced his soft voice. "…Sorry. Happy?"

Denmark released his luggage and pulled his newly reconciled lover close. "Very…" Their face were now less than a breath apart, and Norway felt his eyes close slightly, feeling rather intoxicated as their lips met at last, and the world silenced. He reached up and tied his arms around his lover's neck, allowing the kiss to go deeper, moving so that they were pressed as close as they could be, no longer hearing the murmurs and movement of the people around them, and everything was perfect, back to how it should be again…

They separated reluctantly, but only for long enough for their eyes to lock, and then another kiss began…

Suddenly, Norway pulled away. "Idiot! What are you doing, kissing me so publicly? You moron!" He took off running toward the exit, leaving Denmark to chase after him, laughing loudly.

A tiny smile formed of the Norwegian's face. Everything was normal again, it seemed…

And that was fine with him.

~~_End~~_


End file.
